


As You Lay Asleep

by Morpheus626



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26263849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: So the idea of John as a sleep talker came into the DL server tonight, which progressed to him saying funny, then scary things, while sleeping, which then went as it did towards possession (and we are nearing Halloween, are we not?)This is what came of all that talk on the server. Send Freddie your love and good vibes folks, he’ll need it in this one.Just to note, I set this fic in 1975.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	As You Lay Asleep

“He’s here.” 

Freddie looked up from his book. “Pardon?” 

John was out like a light, laying on a couch set at one wall of the studio space, but he spoke regardless, as par the course for whenever he napped. “He is. For you.” 

Freddie looked around the room. “That’s not funny. You keep dreaming about Veronica, or whatever it is you’re thinking of.” 

“He sees you in your dreams,” John muttered. “Mhm. Cheese is good.” 

Freddie nodded. “Yes to the latter, but what was that first bit?” 

John giggled, in a devilish way, and suddenly Freddie found himself wishing he had gone with Roger and Brian to pick up lunch. 

“You’ve had your fun,” Freddie said. “No more talking now, John.” 

“John is busy, but we’re free to talk,” John said. 

Freddie dropped his book, and stood up from his chair. “Enough.” 

“Ask us something.” 

The crucifix on the wall belonged to the owner of the studio, and it had been odd at first to see it every time they came in, but now it was a life saver. 

He grabbed it off the wall, and pointed it at John, still completely asleep. “John, I need you to wake up. You’re scaring me.” 

His eyes flipped open, but they didn’t flicker or move, and his breathing was as slow in sleep as it had been a moment before. “He can’t wake up yet.” 

His hands shook as he stepped gingerly closer to John. “I know you’re trying to be funny, but this is too far, we’re alone here-” 

“We know,” John smiled, and his eyes flipped shut again. 

“I’m going to leave you here,” Freddie threatened, setting the crucifix down to grab his jacket off his chair. “And I’m finding Roger and Brian.” 

“You won’t leave him,” John said. “He’s like your little brother, and you’re scared for him now.” 

He wanted to scream. They (if there was a they, this was probably just John’s usual sleep-talking and he was overreacting) were right. He was scared for John right now, and he couldn’t leave him alone in the studio, not like this. 

“Fuck you,” Freddie scowled, and dropped his jacket back on the chair. 

John just grinned. 

“I’m going to ignore you,” Freddie decided aloud. “I have a song to work on anyway.” 

“I know,” John said. 

“As our bassist, I should hope you would know that,” Freddie said, and pulled his latest sheets of music and lyrics off of the top of the grand piano nearby. 

“No,” John said. “We know. The song. How it will go. Why you’re writing it. Even you don’t know all of that yet, you’re still figuring it out.” 

Freddie shook his head, and looked down to the papers. 

When he looked back up, John was up, standing directly in front of him, smiling. 

“Fuck!” he dropped the papers, and backed away into the piano. “Stop it, now! I mean it, John!” 

“We already told you, he isn’t here right now,” John said, chuckling, eyes wide open and unmoving, unblinking. 

He took a step forward, and Freddie couldn’t stop the whimper that left his throat. 

Then John laughed, and it was his voice, but not him at all, loud and cruel. 

His mind raced. They’d watched the occasional horror movie as a group, what did they need for an exorcism? 

Holy water. 

He did not have that. But there was fruit punch in the fridge in the kitchen area, and a salt shaker. That would have to be close enough. 

He bolted past John, who snickered as he watched him run. 

“What are you going to do? Who are you hoping will save you? Who will hold you in the dark only you can see, at the end of it all?” 

He ignored John’s voice, his steps heavy behind him, and focused on his task. 

Which, by his own admission, was probably pointless. Salt worked against the supernatural, in theory, but fruit punch wasn’t exactly holy (no matter how delicious a punch it was.) 

He dumped as much salt as he could fit into the pitcher of punch, struggling not to spill any as his hands shook. They hadn’t stopped since he’d dropped the crucifix, and at this rate, they might never calm enough to play the piano or do anything else ever again. 

John’s hand touched his shoulder, and he tossed the pitcher over his shoulder, emptying it all over John. 

Who didn’t fucking move. Not an inch. As if he had salty punch thrown all over him every day. 

“Was that to try and get him back?” John asked, his hand tightening around Freddie’s shoulder, hard enough to hurt. “That’s adorable, but useless.” 

He didn’t often find himself feeling fear like this. In fact, he couldn’t think of another time where it had been this strong, this serious. 

Enough to bring him to tears. 

“Please,” he mumbled through the tears as they fell. “John, stop.” 

“He would like us to,” John said. “But we don’t want to, and we get to decide what happens now.” 

He ripped John’s hand off of his shoulder, and pushed past him, back to the studio area. 

“Where are you going now? Why does your kind fight this so much? Do we not always tell you that we come in peace, be not afraid?” John’s voice boomed down the hallway behind him, many voices in the one. “Well...I suppose we used to come peacefully. Things change, even if we do not...” 

He was begging for Roger and Brian to come back, to burst through the door with lunch, but the front door of the studio didn’t so much as move as he ran past it. 

“Why don’t you leave, if you’re so scared, so unready for us?” John asked, a hand harshly catching his arm and pulling him near as they stood in the hall near the front door. “You could leave, but you won’t. A fact we knew, but so strange to see it happen.” 

John’s face was close enough to kiss, his breath warm against Freddie’s ear. “We will find you, when it’s over for you. We find everyone, no one can hide-” 

John’s head whipped away, and looked upwards, a snarl on his face. “He can’t!” 

The words that fell from his mouth after that were in some unknown language, lyrical and sharp all at once, having a conversation with someone outside of John that Freddie couldn’t see. 

His head whipped back to Freddie, and his grip tightened on Freddie’s arm. “If we cannot take you after, then we will now. We are not to be refused.” 

“I don’t know who the fuck you are!” Freddie spat, working to wrench his arm out of John’s clawing grasp. “And who are you all anyway, why not answer that? At first you said ‘he’ was here for me. Did ‘he’ get bored and leave you here instead?” 

“He watches,” John said. “He observes. He decides what will be.” 

“Fuck off with this fucking joke,” Freddie said, finally free of John. “I’m done being scared. This isn’t funny, and you’re being a bad friend, John. You need to stop.” 

For just a moment, John was back. “What? I...I’m not a bad friend, am I, Fred?” 

“Oh no, you aren’t,” Freddie cried out, tears falling again as he watched them well up in the corner of John’s eyes, open but moving normally now, bright. “I was talking to-” 

“Us?” John asked, and he was gone again, his eyes gone glassy like a shark’s. “That was fun.” 

“When Roger and Brian get back,” Freddie said. “We’ll figure this out. We’ll get him back.” 

“But you’ll all lose him again, one day,” John said. “You can’t see it now. You aren’t supposed to. You should value these days more, there are only so many.” 

“I value my time with John, Roger, and Brian plenty,” Freddie spat. “I love them dearly. Whatever you are, you don’t know that love.” 

“We do,” John said softly. “When he feels it, when he’s with all of you. We feel it too.” 

He was frozen. He wanted to shake John awake (if he was still somehow sleeping, it was hard to tell what state he was in right now), to hit him and knock him back to normal, to hug him close until he stopped talking like he was. 

Instead, the door to the studio opened, and Brian held up a bag of fast food. “We went quite far, but look! McDonald’s! I hope you’re both hun-what’s going on?” 

He stopped and his arm holding the bag aloft dropped to his side as he watched them. 

Roger walked in behind him, and frowned. “What’s all this?” 

John turned, and smiled softly. “You two aren’t ready for us yet. But you will hear from us, someday. Through him, or maybe someone else. What fun, to see who it might be.” 

He turned back to Freddie. “And we’ll find a way to you. Just you wait.” 

Then John dropped heavily to the floor, snoring, and Freddie could only half catch him. 

\---

“I was saying what?” John scoffed around a mouthful of burger. “Freddie, that’s ridiculous.” 

“Don’t,” Freddie said sternly. “I don’t know what you were dreaming about, but you scared the fucking shit out of me. Don’t you ever do that again.” 

“I don’t remember doing it,” John protested. “Though I am sorry, if I scared you with whatever sleep talk I was babbling.” 

“You did a lot more than babble,” Freddie said with a shudder, sipping at his drink. “But I forgive you. So long as you never do it again.” 

“God, we miss all the fun shit,” Roger muttered. “Deaky gets possessed while he sleeps, and we aren’t even here for it.” 

“I’d much rather you had been!” Freddie said sharply. “It was terrible. Like you were gone completely, Deaky. I don’t know who it was that took over, but I don’t want to talk to them again.” 

“Them?” John asked.

Freddie nodded. “They mentioned ‘he’ was watching, and here, or some other shit. And every other time they referred to themselves as ‘we’ and ‘us.’ Along with some nonsense about ‘be not afraid.’” 

“That’s what angels say, isn’t it?” Brian mused. “But those don’t sound like angels.” 

“I don’t give a fuck who they are,” Freddie replied. “They can’t take over our John. I’ve declared it; I hope they can hear me.” 

“Maybe they can,” John snickered. 

His smile dropped at the look on Freddie’s face. “I meant no harm, Freddie, only joking.” 

“You did literally drop to the ground, dead asleep when we came in,” Roger said. “That was weird. And waking you was like waking the dead.” 

“I’m tired,” John shrugged. “Look, I don’t know what else to say. I truly am sorry, Freddie, for whatever I said, even if I can’t remember it now.” 

“It’s okay,” Freddie sighed. “But god knows I won’t be sleeping well tonight, now. Not with what happened today in my head.” 

“I could come over?” John asked. “We could stay up, watch movies.” 

Freddie shot Brian and Roger a despairing look.

“Y’know,” Roger said. “Why don’t we all stay with you tonight, even into the night after? A couple nights of a slumber party at Freddie’s; I think it sounds good.” 

Brian nodded. “Maybe you’ll talk tonight like you did today, John, and then Rog and I can hear it too.” 

Freddie shuddered. “How dare you try and speak that into existence, Brian.” 

“I’ll keep you safe from his blathering in his sleep,” Brian chuckled gently. 

“Someone had better,” Freddie said. “No offense, John.” 

John waved away his concerns. “None taken. Used to creep out my mum too. Little me, walking up to her when she had put me down for a nap, going on about ‘knowing what will come’ or something like that. Silly, isn’t it?” 

Freddie frowned, and made a note to call John’s mum the next chance he got. He had some questions for her, that desperately needed answering. 

But for now, the assurance of John being very awake and happy and himself, and that Roger and Brian would be there as well for their little slumber party, was enough to calm him. 

Even if he did somehow, impossibly, feel like there was another invisible pair of eyes in the room, watching him. 

But it was probably nothing. 


End file.
